You Just Know...

...the evening is going to be awesome when you come home at the end of the day with your arms full of stuff from the hot car to find presents from the cat.  And by presents I don't mean "ooo yay!" I mean gifts left for me by Linda Blair kitty.  So I follow the trail of puke from the living room, into the kitchen and around into the laundry room.  I put my dinner in the microwave, where it is just going to have to live for awhile.  I clean up the mess, thanking god most of it was on the non-carpeted flooring.  I carry out the bag of bio-harzad and hurry back into the cool house only to find the cat at the top of the stairs glaring down at me as if everything is my fault.  It's my fault she ate so much fur and made herself sick.  Maybe it's even my fault she has so much fur.  Who knows.  She is such a strange little cat.  She seriously gets strange when I clean the house, which I've been doing this week.  So, my one or two blog readers, in the future if you come to my house and it is dirty it is because that is how the cat likes it and she obviously runs the joint.